The World Calling
by HeroicWill
Summary: Perseus, the only son of the prestigious Aurelius family, had life in the most grand sense. Money and women was just the start. Power would soon follow, as his father prepared to become Emperor, but when a dark conspiracy throws all into disarray, he is forced to leave the Imperial City, distraught and lost. Little does he know that his life wasn't over. It was just beginning.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One: The Beginning of the End**_

_**7:30 P.M., 16**__**th**__** of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Pale Pass**_

Skyrim.

Even though he had never been to his other homeland in his short life on Nirn, he could tell he was going to hate it and it wasn't the absurdly freezing weather that the Northern Province provides.

A new life… it was something that he didn't want but needed after… well, everything. He had to get away from it all. He wasn't about to be crucified for something he had nothing to do with. It scarred him to the core, to deny what basically boiled down to who he was, and it would probably continue to affect him for the rest of his life... but it was his only option. That was his only motivation to keep placing one foot in front of the other.

The cold chill that laced the night air didn't affect him as much as he had thought it would. His Nord blood had something to do with that, but he paid it no mind… or at least tried to.

He couldn't stop it. Memories came rushing in of his father training him in the ways of the sword, which would always end in a fit of laughter and a tussling match between him and his father, his mother caring for the often scrape or bruise that he would obtain from his ventures outdoors. More and more fond memories filled his mindscape and he unconsciously stopped…

He shook his head violently and kept moving. He didn't care about that anymore. That life was gone. Only the warmth his wolf skin cloak brought.

The blisters in his feet pained him profusely, but he kept moving. It was all he could do.

The moon illuminated his path, eliminating any need for a torch to light his way until the clouds covered the moon, but by then, he had seen his first settlement.

Two Imperial legionnaires guarded the gate, both garbed in usual guard armor with an Imperial sword identical to his hanging off each of their hips. Their helmets obscured their faces altogether, leaving barely even the eyes to show. It was a strange helm, but he supposed it worked to combat the hostile weather.

He kept up with current events as much as he could and since he knew he was headed to Skyrim, the Civil War was forced into the forethought of his mind. He was a part of the third group that cared nothing for it and wanted no part of it. He wanted to avoid it as much as he could, but it did have its effects on the land… something he was about to encounter.

He fumbled around his knapsack for his coin purse, in preparation to let his money do the persuading for him, but the small sack escaped him. Breathing a silent curse, he steeled himself.

As he approached the wooden gate, the guards' hands shot directly to the handles of their blades, but as he got closer, they relaxed. His eyes narrowed. It was obvious this rebellion had them frantic and scared. The Legion had really lost their spine.

"Halt, traveler. This town is under the Empire's protection. Only citizens of the Empire may enter with proper identification. Let me see it," one of the guards said. It was gonna be easier than he thought.

"Very well," he replied, reaching within his pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to the guard. The guard took it and inspected it for a moment.

"Military and council code…" He paused for a moment before refolding it and handing it back to him. "What brings a member of the Aurelius family northbound?"

Of course he wouldn't know about his family yet. It was a fairly current event after all.

"Personal business, I'm afraid."

The guard hummed. "Private business dealing with the Empire, hm? I understand, young Lord. The Empire needs all the help it can get… we'll open the gate for you. Wait here."

He motioned to his comrade, who pushed on one of the gate's handles. The large gate open just enough for him to slide through.

"Go right in, and enjoy your stay at Helgen, Lord Aurelius."

The man, Aurelius, made his way to the opening and stopped just before he went out of sight. "It's best no one knows I'm here, understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And drop the whole 'Lord' thing."

**-o-O-o-**

_**9:25 P.M., 16**__**th**__** of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen**_

Vesuvius graciously took the gold in exchange for the Nord mead and thanked him for his business, slipping the gold in the chest underneath the bar. It was business as usual for the Imperial.

It was an above average night for him, whether it was the payout, the bard, or the beautiful women that walked in, searching for what may fit their fancy.

It was a habit for him to watch everyone who walked into his little inn. He didn't get the service he used to due to those damn Stormcloaks putting the entirety of Skyrim in a frenzy of fear. The Imperials had Helgen locked up tight and very few ever got to see the inside of the town-turned-fort, but every now and then, there would be a spike in business where more people would pass through than normal.

The Imperial liked those nights. More money for him means more money for women.

The door creaked open again and he turned his head to see his next money grab…

But he wasn't sure if he liked what he saw.

The figure was clearly male, standing tall and lean with his cloak shadowing his entire body. No weapon was obvious on his persona but his cloak did cover his body well. None of that bothered him. That was the usual for most of his customers.

His face was the unsettling part. Vesuvius had seen his fair share of sturdy and square jawed men and the man was no different in that aspect. Short black hair covered his skull as it ran just past his jawline. Not a pinch of facial hair was visible on the man. Clearly military…

None of that bothered him. It was the sapphire eyes that unsettled him.

Vesuvius was very familiar with the "eyes are windows to the soul" thing. His expression gave away nothing but his eyes betrayed everything…

Something had broken the man. They held no conviction, no feeling that a man should have. It was almost like staring into the darkened abyss that was Sithis. There was _nothing_ there. A man like that is will to try anything and has nothing left to lose…

He was headed straight for him…

The Imperial crouched down behind the cover of his bar and scanned the shelf to reassure the presence of his iron sword. Bar fights and robberies rarely occurred at Helgen and everyone knew it, but Vesuvius felt it best to always prepare for the worst.

By the time he looked back up though, the man had already been seated.

He felt his reaction was appropriate.

"Gah!" Vesuvius shouted, jumping back into the shelves behind him. They shook, threatening to throw his various assortments of mead and wine off their resting place. He stood still, gawking at the man before him and praying that his alcoholic beverages did take the tumble. They rattled on for a moment longer before they silenced. He breathed the heaviest sigh.

"Sorry," the man apologized, monotone in his words altogether as if apologizing was just a formality. He probably didn't mean it, but Vesuvius didn't care. He was after his money, not his friendship.

He pushed himself off the shelf, regaining his bearing in the process. "Well… as long as you don't cause me to break any of my wares… anyway, what will you have?"

"A room and some food, preferably grilled and vegetables. No mead. Just water, please," Vesuvius was caught off guard at how swiftly the man had spit out, causing him to pause for a moment.

"A-alright… all of that will be about-"

The dropping of a fairly heavy coin purse dropped on his bar-top. He had never moved faster to grab a coin purse in his life. Dumping out its contents, he counted about a hundred Septims. It was a little more than he charged, but he wasn't complaining. He snapped his head back up only to see the man's back walking away.

"I'll need your name for the room roster, sir…"

He stopped in his tracks for a moment before turning his head to the side and giving him an answer.

"Perseus…"

**-o-O-o-**

_**7:05 A.M., 17**__**th**__** of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen**_

The nightmares never end, it seems.

It had been the same dream since he left Cyrodiil. Perseus had figured they would be bad, but they've only gotten more vivid, more intense since he departed from his home. It was nothing new though. He figured they would come but it didn't stop him from leaving. He had to…

Perseus pushed himself out of his bed and dropped to the ground. It was one of his ways of blotting out anything that would come to his mind. Doing a form of physical work never failed to relieve him of any burdens he was carrying at time, if only temporary.

With his morning routine complete, he grabbed his usual travel garments and his knapsack before securing his sword on his belt. He never stayed at a location for more than a day for the purpose of evasion and the fact that the sooner he got to Windhelm, the better.

Perseus fastened his cloak and made sure it had full body coverage before stepping out the door. The inn was completely barren, not a soul in sight other than the owner, who was shifting around behind the bar.

"Where is everyone?" he asked a little more commanding that he meant to be. The Imperial shot up at his inquiry, his body seizing up for a moment before he relaxed.

"They have an execution going on outside," he asked. "Pretty big deal too, it seems, to steal all my customers…"

It perked his interest for the sake of avoiding any recognition by any Imperial legionnaire that might recognize him. "Who's losing their head?"

"Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his followers… it seems a little too good to be true though… only one way to find out though," the bartender pondered.

Something snapped within him and he knew what. His teeth clenched tight together and his fists followed. A primal growl escaped his lips almost instinctively. He needed to see this.

"I suppose you're right…"

With that, he stepped out the door into the morning air.

**-o-O-o-**

_**8:28 A.M., 17**__**th**__** of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen**_

As soon as he was out the door, Perseus had bumped into someone already. He quickly apologized to the man but he paid him no mind. He was completely distracted by the scene in front of him.

Perseus' vision was obscured by the hordes of people that stood between him and the scene. What the bartender said must've been true for an execution to attract what was basically the whole town. It wasn't until he heard a withered yet stern voice sound.

"Ulfric Stormcloak… some here in Helgen call you a hero…"

Perseus recognized the stern voice and let a silent curse escape.

_What is Tullius doing here?_

He couldn't focus on the why at the moment. He needed to know what and began shifting through the crowd.

A few minutes of shuffling about later and he had finally managed to get to the front of the crowd, leaning on the front of the railing before taking a minute to observe the scene in front of him.

The first thing he noticed was the huge executioner that stood parallel to the priest that was present. These legionnaires had a sense of irony, it seemed. The axe in his hand was even bigger than the man himself, but judging from the chipped cutting edge, it had seen better days. He wouldn't be surprised if a fresh steel blade sent it to an overdue retirement.

A couple of Imperial legionnaires stood around the scene, probably on security in case any sympathizers or disguised Stormcloaks decided to interrupt the slaughterhouse.

His eyes fell upon their leader, a gray-haired Imperial garbed in what appeared to be the standard issue general's armor for the Legion. It was Tullius after all…

And the man in front of him was indeed Ulfric Stormcloak.

The Nord looked worse than he had ever seen him look before. His face was bloodied and bruised, no doubt from the pent-up anger of the legionnaires, and his "regal" garments were torn and tattered to pieces with no form of armor to boot.

Good… it'll make killing him easier.

A distant roar broke him from his thoughts, causing him to nearly jump out of his boots in the process. His head followed everyone else's, scanning the skies for the cause of it. Murmuring occurred in the crowd behind him, but they were overshadowed by Tullius' commanding voice.

"It's nothing. Carry on."

An Imperial tribune, as made obvious by her steel armor, responded. "Yes, General Tullius!"

Perseus already hated this woman just from the sound of her voice. She turned to the priest. "Give them their last rights."

The priest nodded, stepping in front of the captured Stormcloaks and lifting her hands high.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you-"

A brash Stormcloak jutted in. "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"

_Thank you…_

Perseus couldn't decide which of the women's voice was more annoying, but he was grateful of the interruption. The sooner Ulfric loses his head, the better.

The begrudging Stormcloak trudged forward, but Perseus' hate-filled eyes stayed on Ulfric. He had wanted nothing more than to charge forward and shove his blade through his gullet, but he wasn't stupid. He would be taken down before he could reach the Nord.

Ulfric began scanning the crowds. Perseus swore he could see him smirking behind the gag that was tied firmly around his mouth. If he had to go, this was the way he wanted it, it seemed.

Only the gods know what caused the Nord to stop and gaze at Perseus for a moment before his eyes widened in recognition. But why…

It hit him hard.

_My hood…_

He had forgotten to don his hood before leaving the inn. He cursed at his stupidity and quickly donned his hood before relocating himself on the other side of the porch. The sounding of an axe dropping signified the passing of the brave and stupid Stormcloak, and the Imperial tribune called again.

"Next, the traitor!"

The roar happened again, only this time it was much less distant and a lot more vicious.

The murmurs were much more frantic this time. Whispers were nonexistent in the crowd's speaking.

"There it is again," he heard a Nord sound. "Did you hear that?"

The tribune intensified with her repeated call. "I said _next prisoner_!"

Two legionnaires converged on Ulfric, grabbing him by both arms and kicking him in each calf, causing him to fall forward helplessly. Roughly, they dragged him towards the chopping block before throwing him down remorselessly. The Imperial tribune followed them up, stomping his back in to keep him from going anywhere.

Perseus knew he could break out of there and stall himself some time before the axe came down, and he felt like Ulfric knew too, but there was no fight given in return. He watched as the Nord closed his eyes in acceptance.

A tear rolled down Ulfric's cheek. He was _crying_.

The axe was raised up, and for a second, Perseus had a complete one-eighty. He wanted to know why that son of a bitch was shedding tears before his well-deserved death.

In an instant, it seemed like the sun had just vanished and a shadow cloaked the entire town. There was no way the clouds had blocked the sun out as fast as what just occur. He couldn't see from under the roof of the inn but something was causing it and it wasn't the weather…

"What in Oblivion is that?!"

Pitch black claws grasped the watchtower, nearly destroying the entire roof as the owner of the claws perched itself on top.

Time seemed to have frozen. The total blackness of the beast screamed death in every form, sending fear racking throughout his body. The wings' span was unlike anything imagined, like a single flap would blow away a small settlement into Oblivion, and the scales appeared tougher than any form of steel could even scratch, let alone breach. The razor sharp fangs added even more to the fear factor, as they appear as though they could rip the White-Gold Tower in half with hardly any effort.

None of that compared to the blood red eyes that were staring Perseus down like he had ruined his morning breakfast.

_What… in Talos' name is-?_

His answer came sooner than he would've liked.

"DRAGON!"

Not a soul dared moved, out of the unadulterated fear that had taken hold. None of the legionnaires drew swords, including Tullius and his attack dog. None of the Stormcloaks attempted escape. Ulfric didn't even move from his submissive position. He could only stare at the dragon that had landed above him.

Perseus wasn't excused from the fear. In fact, he was probably feeling it more than the people around him. The dragon never broke eye contact with Perseus. Those red eyes shrieked death and spoke fear. He had never seen anything like it and was wishing he never had.

He had no idea why the red-eyed beast was staring him down, but he knew one thing he needed to do.

_Run._

The roar that the dragon sung next wasn't like the ones previously. It felt more direct and more powerful, as it seemed as though the sky shook in its very wake. He swore he could even make out words from it...

The sky darkened as clouds formed over the immediate area. Perseus gazed up, only to see a blazing boulder headed for the inn.

"Move!"

Pieces of wood flew in every direction, forcing the crowd to do the same. Perseus leaped forward with no other plan that to get away from the doomed inn and because of that, he hit the dirt ground hard.

His vision blurred and the breath was knocked away from him. He couldn't tell if it was fear or his lack of will, but what he did know is that a man had grabbed him by his cloak and pulled him him up.

"Kinsman, get up!"

It was one of the captured Stormcloaks. He appeared the stereotypical Nord too.

"The gods won't give us another chance!" He ushered Perseus forward, who stumbled into the building before falling on the stone ground.

He paused for a moment and took a breath before he pushed himself off the ground and regained his bearing.

It seemed he had been ushered into one of the guard towers, considering the circular nature of the structure. He could hear the screams and cries of the people outside, but it paled in comparison to the dragon's terrifying screech.

He couldn't even hear his own thoughts. Looking around, he saw he wasn't the only one with the Stormcloak, or Stormcloaks in this matter.

A few of the civilians had taken shelter in the guard tower as well, cowering against the wall and lacking any knowledge on what to do. Some of the Stormcloaks tended to the civilians while a group of the Nord rebels had huddled around each other in conversation.

"Could the legends be true...?" the man who had saved him questioned out loud. Perseus felt he had known the answer to his own question already. He just didn't want to believe it himself... not that Perseus blamed him.

The question wasn't rhetorical though. A deep, throaty voice answered, laced thick in Nordic accent. Sad thing was he knew exactly who the responder was.

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric stated grimly. The roar of the dragon came again, followed by the sound of death. Again, Perseus swore he could hear words coming from the maw of the beast.

"We need to move! Now!" the rebel leader exclaimed. The huddle broke, as men headed upstairs but before the man who saved him was able to leave, Ulfric grabbed him by the shoulder before pointing at Perseus.

"Ralof, I need you to get him out of here. Not a scratch on the boy," Ulfric warned.

The Nord, Ralof, nodded. "Yes, my Jarl."

"Go, now!"

Perseus had held a death glare at the man until he was being ushered by Ralof. "Come on now, boy! We need to leave!"

He began backing up but his hate-filled eyes never left the Nord, who stared back with that same look he had before his scheduled execution. It was somber, regretful even. The hate only boiled more.

Perseus knew he had to tear himself away or else he might've tried something, and it was the worst possible time to make an attempt.

Breaking eye contact, he turned and ran away from his past for a second time.

**-o-O-o-**

_**8:36 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 204**_

_**Location: Helgen**_

Ralof didn't know why his Jarl wanted him to save the boy. Granted, he had already saved him once and he didn't mind doing it again, but he was one of those people who wanted to know the why behind the what.

The Nord did what he was told though and never question his Jarl. Still, he pressed forward nonetheless, but the question remained at the forefront of his mind: who exactly _was_ this man?

The man was keeping up for the most part, keeping a certain distance behind Ralof. Again, he didn't know why he was, but gauging from the way he glared threateningly at Ulfric, he probably didn't trust him and understandably so. Stormcloaks aren't the most popular people around.

They had almost made it to the top. Just a little further...

What happened next nearly sent him off his feet and down the stairs. It was almost like the wall had shot out from the side and crushed the men in front of them. The only thing that said otherwise was the black dragon's head poking in from the gaping hole that marred the structure.

The air around him was sucked away with a noise and the dragon's mouth opened wide with a orange light source in the back of its mouth. It didn't take a wizard to figure out what was coming.

"Gods... everyone get back!"

Ralof swore he melted at the sheer heat of the fire that came, despite having moved back from the dragon. He had to turn his head away in fear of losing his face at the very presence of the flame. What had felt like forever only lasted a couple of seconds as the flapping of wings sounded again and then nothing.

The Nord looked back up to see a gaping hole in the side of the tower and the staircase to the top was closed off by rubble.

_Damn..._

Peering out the breach, Ralof got a full spectacle of the chaos that ensued... and chaos was an understatement.

Helgen was a pit of fire. Nearly all of the buildings laid in ruin and ablaze in dragon fire. The pillars and wood that once stood strong in support had fallen completely, charred pitch black from the flames. The Imperial legionnaires were divided between trying to control the panicked civilians and taking on the beast, both efforts failing miserably.

_By the Nine..._

He was snapped out of his gazing by the man he was ordered to escort. "What do we do?"

His voice caught Ralof off guard. The bass in his voice deceived his young appearance. It even had some command presence to it, which had snapped him out of his gaze in the first place.

Focusing on his task, Ralof scanned his surroundings before his eyes landed on the roof of the inn. The majority of the roof was still ablaze but the part closest to them had collapsed completely, leaving a small opening to the second floor...

Grabbing the man's shoulder, he pointed towards the inn. "See the opening?! Jump through there and keep going!"

"What about you?! Didn't the murderer tell you to "save" me?!" He shouted viciously. Yeah, there had to be something else going on between his leader and this man that he wasn't aware of, but that was the least of his concerns. Ralof glanced back at the civilians and the wounded with him, knowing full well they couldn't make that jump.

"These people can't follow you and you seem fairly capable! They need me more than you do!"

The breathing of fire caused both of their heads to snap in its direction. They needed to move.

"Go! I'll follow when I can!" Ralof shouted before ushering everyone back down the stairs, leaving the man by himself.

**-o-O-o-**

_**8:59 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen**_

His first impressions of Ralof ranged from a good man to way too nice, in which he was surer of the latter.

Of course, the Nord was just following orders so maybe Perseus was just thinking too much, like normal. Maybe Ralof didn't care. Maybe he did. It doesn't matter now. He would probably never see him again.

Leaping across to the inn, Perseus crashed hard into the wooden floor. Weakened by the fire, the floor gave in as he made impact, sending him down to the first floor.

He smacked the ground with a thud, his body bouncing once before resting on the ground. Groaning in pain, Perseus laid there for a moment before weakly pushing himself off the ground. He rested on his knees and as his body went upright, a numbing pain shot through his body, sending him back to the ground and hollering in agony.

Patting at his torso in a desperate attempt to find the puncture, he landed his hand just above his waist. Feeling the protrusion, Perseus grasped it firmly and pulled, but an even worse pain filled his senses, halting any attempt to remove the splinter of wood.

Deciding that removing it would do more harm than good, he got on his feet, gasping in pain but still managing to stay on his feet. More roars filled the air, causing him to move forward in a limp.

Coming out the ruined side of the building, the Nord-Imperial hobbled to the outside, seeing the same sight he had in the tower.

_We're doomed._

A voice cut through his thought process. "Hamming, get over here now!"

Looking towards the source, Perseus assumed it was the legionnaire beckoning towards a small child who stood in the streets. At the call, the child took steps towards him but the quaking of the ground paralyzed the young boy.

The whole group gawked at the cause of the quake. It was the dragon again and by the way it reared its head just then and the wind just shifted toward the beast's direction, fire was about to burn again and the little boy was directly in its path. Perseus wasn't the only one who saw it coming though.

"HAMMING, MOVE!"

The legionnaire leaped forward, grabbing the boy and slinging the both of them out of the road, just narrowly missing the dragon fire that followed. They crashed into the remains of a house with the legionnaire using his body to shield the boy from the impact.

Once the stream of fire halted and the dragon flew off to another part of the fortress, the legionnaire picked up the boy and moved back over to where Perseus and what appeared to be the boy's father stood.

Setting the boy down, he grabbed the older man's shoulder. "Get somewhere safe! I have to join in the defense!"

The old man returned the gesture. "Gods guide you, Hadvar..."

Before the legionnaire could sprint off, Perseus called out to him.

"Wait!" The legionnaire stopped and turned quickly towards the call. He ran up to him and flashed his code.

"Lord Aurelius! I-I had no id-"

Perseus waved it off. "Save it! There's no time! I'm coming with you!"

"Of course, my lord. Follow me!" Hadvar took off down the charred street and Perseus followed closely behind him. Banking left, they leapt over a pile a debris and into an alleyway. They didn't go too much further though.

Black talons slammed into the ground and halted their run. Crouching down, they couldn't help but stare at the massive beast that rested above them, breathing more fire down on what Perseus could assume was more people. It didn't stay long, taking off again with a flap of its wings that sent the pair on their butts.

Quickly recovering, Perseus ran ahead of the Nord legionnaire and into the burning house. It was fairly straightforward pathway, considering most of the rooms had been caved in.

He stepped outside the building and into the very thing he wanted to avoid.

The Legion was trying their best, but even that wasn't enough. Archers loosed arrows left and right towards the beast with none making their mark as it circled around the town, breathing plumes of fire down on them. It was far from a fair fight.

General Tullius stood in a stance, his blade at the ready. Even as an older man, his voice still carried well. His barking of orders reminded Perseus of that. There wasn't much that he could do though against that of a dragon.

He stood in a stance with his Imperial sword drawn and his eyes glued to the dragon. Seeing that his attention was solely on the flying beast, Perseus made a move to glide past him without any interaction, but Hadvar had other ideas.

"General Tullius! Lord Aurelius is here!"

The general turned in his direction, his eyes landing directly on Perseus. His reaction was appropriate.

"Perce, what the Oblivion are you doing here?! You should be back in the Imperial City! Are your parents here as well?!" Tullius' focus had changed in an instant, but the landing of the dragon nearby refocused him.

"Get down, NOW!"

More fire came their way, causing them to hit the ground hard and Perseus to receive a reminder that the wooden splinter was still in his side. Again, his senses went numb, but he could still feel the gust of wind that came from the dragon taking to the skies again. Shaking his head, he pushed himself up but ate the dirt again.

_I'm going to die here..._

He felt his arms getting slung around two shoulders and his body being lifted into the air and dragged around before he felt himself being sat down and posted against stone. A firm hand grasped his shoulder and shook him lightly.

"Perseus, answer me! What are you doing here, of all places?!" Tullius shouted.

His senses had returned by then.

"To get away from it all..." Perseus muttered lowly in an attempt to hide his true answer from his uncle, but it was a failed attempt.

"To get away from what, Perce?!"

Standing up, Perseus shook his head and stated, "Now isn't the time! I'll find you later!"

Nodding his head in understanding, Tullius grabbed Hadvar, who had been standing guard for them. "Hadvar, protect my nephew at any cost! Take him through the keep and out the back! Do you understand?!"

"Yes, sir!"

With one last look, Tullius said to Perseus, "Stay strong!"

Perseus gave him a dark look that said otherwise, but no words came from his mouth. The only response he gave him was the one where he turned his back to him and ran after Hadvar.

The only thing between them and their destination was a plane of burning grass and a Stormcloak that Perseus was just recently familiar with.

"Ralof, you damn traitor! Out of our way!"

The blond Nord was ready. "We're escaping, Hadvar! I dare you to try and stop us!"

"Is that a challenge, milk-drinker?!" Hadvar probed.

"It can be, you damn bootlicker!"

Perseus had enough. "Shut up! Both of you! There's a dragon killing all of us right now! Now isn't the time to fight!"

He didn't know why he spoke up or even care to, but he did know he couldn't take the idiocy and ignorance any longer. The two Nords looked at each other in spite for a moment before Hadvar spoke up.

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

Before any of them could move though, the dragon came around for another pass. If it wasn't for the excessive inhaling of air and the clear pronunciation of words he couldn't understand, he and everyone around him would've been scorched.

"Get in the keep NOW!"

Ralof took off towards one entrance of the keep while Hadvar and Perseus booked it to the other one. He could feel the heat of the flame chasing after him, nipping at the back of his shoes to move faster. It worked to say the least.

Perseus slammed himself unintentionally into the door in an attempt to avoid the blaze. His eyes snapped shut in preparation of burning skin, but nothing came. Not even an ember grazed his skin. Opening his eyes, he saw the dragon bank right and rip clean through a portion of the keep, sending stone raining down on them.

"We need to get inside! Open the door, Hadvar!"

The Nord kept slamming his shoulder into the door, but to no avail. "It won't budge!"

"Hit it harder!" Perseus shouted before running to check the other entrance to the keep, only to see it blocked off by fallen stone. Underneath the stone, he saw Ralof with a leg pinned down by a pile. The Nord pushed desperately on the stones, only managing to push a couple off before his hands clutched his leg again, presumably in pain.

The smashing of wood grabbed his attention and Hadvar called to him.

"It's open! C'mon!"

Looking between the door and Ralof, Perseus hesitated. In his hesitation, he recalled one of his father's moral lessons that he had tried to instill in him as a young child. He was prone to pretend like he was listening more often than actually listen, but this lesson stuck with him for unknown reasons.

_"But why, Dad? Why can't we just be normal? Why do we have to help others?"_

_"It's not an option for us to help others, son. It's our obligation, our responsibility as men of the Aurelius family to do everything in our power to help others..."_

Sprinting over to the downed Nord, he called to Hadvar, "Give me a hand here!"

Hadvar was baffled. "You can't be serious! Leave the damn traitor!"

The legionnaire's words set Perseus off. "Do not argue with me! Get over here _now!_"

He could tell the legionnaire was biting his tongue in protest, but the Nord gave in anyway. Frantically, they began tossing stones off the Stormcloak's injured leg.

"We have to hurry, Perseus! That dragon will come back soon!" Hadvar shouted.

"I know! We aren't leaving him here though!" Perseus responded fiercely, speeding up the process until the man's leg was free. Flanking each side of the man, they wrapped their arms around his shoulders and lifted.

Carrying the injured man to the door, they got halfway in before the collapsing of more stone stopped Perseus. Turning around, he gazed upon the scene from Oblivion and the dragon that had caused it.

The screams and shouts didn't cease as the Legion continued to hold off the dragon to the best of their ability, but even that had no effect. He scanned the area for some sense of hope, but all he saw was the charred corpses, the destroyed buildings, and the raging fire that didn't cease.

"Perseus, we need to go," Hadvar broke him out of his trance, causing Perseus to quickly glance at the Nord before looking back at the scene. Choppily stepping inside the keep, he closed the hatch with only a single thought in his mind.

_We're in trouble._

_**Author's Note:**_** First off, I'd like to say thank you for taking time out of your day to read my new story, **_**The World Calling**_**. It is actually a revamp of my original project **_**The Beauty of Dawn: Nightfall**_**, in which you can check it out on my profile, but it is not necessary to read. Just something for you to check out if you want to see where I originally started to where I am now.**

**To give a brief rundown for those who don't feel like it, I wanted to tell the story of Perseus over just revamping the Dawnguard storyline and to do that, I have to start from the beginning. **

**So here it is.**

**But it isn't just a rewrite of Dawnguard anymore. It has become a rewrite of Skyrim and beyond. I'm taking what Bethesda has masterfully created and taking it into a whole new direction, a better direction for storytelling. It will also go past Skyrim. With that being said, things are going to be different and I'll tell you some of those differences.**

**When I played the game through, I felt like the various stories could have been done better in various ways. While the Thieves Guild, Dark Brotherhood, and College of Winterhold storylines were great, I felt the Companions and the Main Story were lacking when compared to the other storylines. This is just my opinion altogether, but the Companions was far too short, cut n' dry and the Main Story didn't deliver on the impact or grand scale I felt it should have. As a result, I will expand on all of them in a larger way, but if I told you how, then it would spoil the story for you. **

**I will also cover all the storylines and those same storylines will sometimes overlap too. Events won't stop and wait for Perseus to come strolling along to fix things. Time isn't going to stop for him as it seems to do in the game. He will have to prioritize and make decisions on what to do next, and there will be consequences of those decisions. Think Mass Effect for example.**

**Along with that, I'm going to come out and say that Perseus will be a pure warrior and will join the Companions, none of the other major factions, but that doesn't mean that the other factions will go without him being involved in some way. I have plans for that and they will come within time.**

**Those are just some of the ways I'm going to change things. As I have said more times than I care for, I have a plan for this saga and I hope you enjoy my version of Skyrim.**

**One more thing before I quit talking and let you proceed to the next chapter: I will be referring to a fair amount of outside material in this story, such as mods on the Skyrim Nexus, people in real life, etc, so you can get a better picture of what some items, weapons, armor, and characters look like in my story. **

**Most of the stuff you will already be familiar with as far as appearance goes, but like I said earlier, there are differences in my story opposed to the game. I'll let you know for times such as those. For Perseus, he's pretty much a Christian Bale with blue eyes.**

**Three important mods that will stay in effect are InsanitySorrow's Unique Uniques (for obvious reasons; I don't know what Bethesda was thinking using standard based models for supposedly unique weapons, armor, and items), LeanWolf's Better Shaped Weapons (I just don't agree with how some of the weapons are shaped, especially the Dragonbone Sword. Annoys me to no end), and CaBaL's Book of Silence mod (they just look hella better than the vanilla graphics; this goes double for the steel and Skyforge steel weapons). **

**And I'm done now. Feel free to ask any questions and I will answer them to the best of my ability. Thank you again for reading. Stick around for more and witness the adventure that I am about to bring you. **

**Follow, favorite, and review!**

**-Will**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two: Digging Deep**_

_**9:13 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Keep**_

Hadvar was confused by Perseus.

He had figured the man a loyalist to the Empire, and for the most part, he was right. He even had the military and council code of his family on his identification to back it up and the Aurelius family was probably one of the most, if not the most, influential and powerful families in the present day Empire. Someone with connections such as those wouldn't be rid of them so easily, especially over a wannabe rebellion...

So only one question bugged him: _why_ did they just save Ralof?

The Stormcloak was still hoisted on his and Perseus' shoulders as they made their way into the keep. Breaking off from the other two, Hadvar made his way to the door.

"Set him in one of those chairs. I'm getting the door," Perseus did as the legionnaire said, easing him down in a wooden chair and groaning at the same time.

Hadvar pushed the door closed and gave it a quick shove to secure it. Focusing his attention on Perseus, he got what he was thinking off his chest.

"So tell me why in Oblivion we rescued this damn traitor? He was getting what a rebel deserved, maybe more so if you ask me, so why didn't we leave him to his fate that the gods-"

"Because he isn't the enemy. That dragon is," Perseus stated.

"I know, but it's trea-"

The man in question narrowed his eyes at him in a glare. "Don't be such a fool! That dragon is bigger than anything that is going on now, both figuratively and literally! This kind of close-mindedness will get you killed, so keep those comments to yourself. Deal?!"

Hadvar gulped. He didn't see this coming. "Yes, my Lord."

"And drop the 'Lord' thing. I don't care for it."

"As you wish."

And that was the end of that. Hadvar didn't know what had just happened. He felt as though he was confident enough to persuade him to end the injured Stormcloak, but before he could've even began to debate his perspective on the situation, he was shut down. It only peaked his curiosity of the man more.

"Can you move, Ralof?" He heard Perseus inquire.

"No... gah, I think my leg is broken," the Nord groaned out, the pain bluntly evident in his voice. Perseus crouched down to eye level with him, but ended up falling back on his knees and Hadvar saw why. A decent size piece of wood stayed lodged in the man's hip, where blood continued to pour at a slow but steady rate. Perseus acted like it wasn't even there. His focus was completely on Ralof's leg.

"We could make a splint out of some of the chests in here," Hadvar piped up. "Break off the planks and wrap them with some linen. It's not like we're going to need them."

Perseus hummed to himself. "Yeah, that could work. Let's make it happen."

Before he could even stand on his own two feet, however, he was back down on his knees and groaning in pain. He couldn't avoid it any longer.

"What in the gods' name..."

Just when Hadvar began to understand Perseus, he was confused again before it became obvious to him.

"You've... never been injured, have you...?" Hadvar questioned carefully.

With a groan, the man replied, "What gave it away? My in... my inability to tolerate a small hole in my side...?"

The legionnaire began putting it together. "So if you haven't been injured, then it is probably safe to say you've never been in a real fight... right?"

"Yes, but I know how to handle myself."

Hadvar didn't believe him. Knowing how to swing a blade was vastly different from knowing how to fight. Their odds of surviving just took a plunge.

"Fine, but you can't fight like that. Wait here."

It took no time to gather the supplies necessary. It seemed that they had stumbled through the barracks entrance to the keep, in which there had been an abundance of the items they needed.

_We got lucky..._

Grabbing the rolls of linen from one of the shelves nearby, he made his way to the nearest chest and kicked in two of the planks, breaking them off.

Jogging over to Perseus, the Nord set down the supplies gathered on the table nearby. "All right. I won't lie to you. This is going to hurt, so brace yourself."

"I figured as- gah!" Hadvar quickly move to stop the blood pouring from the reopened wound as Perseus attempted to control his breathing, which has turned to a hybrid of gasping and wheezing. He chuckled a little to himself.

"You're definitely an Imperial if this hurts you that bad," the legionnaire joked. Apparently, he had ruffled some feathers with that comment.

"My mother was a Nord so you can shove it," Perseus retaliated. The man was starting to make more sense to him. It explained the stormy blue eyes he possessed. He decided to delve deeper and find out what he could. The Aurelius family was a surpringly mysterious family for having such a prestigious name.

"Is that right?" He asked in a curious manner as he tied the knot of the wrap.

His expression turned cold and his voice took a darker tone. "Yeah... She's fairly well known in the Nord community too. Ever heard of Aisha Heart-Slayer?"

Hadvar was moving over to Ralof to assemble his splint when he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't help but widen his eyes. Turning to Perseus, he asked incredulously, "Really? _The _Aisha Heart-Slayer?"

Standing up slowly, Perseus nodded his head, his face expressing his still evident pain. "Yeah... agh, some reputation to live up to, right?"

Hadvar stared at him for a minute in shock. Heart-Slayer's reputation and story was one known to every Nord that walked Tamriel. It was almost a timeless classic if it wasn't such a recent event.

Still in shock from the new information, Hadvar squatted down in front of Ralof but never took his eyes off of Perseus, who wore a blank face. "Do you even know what she did to earn that title...?"

The blank face stayed. As Hadvar began tending to the Stormcloak, he took the lack of reaction as a "no". Using his first impressions of the guy, he made a judgment call and decided to continue.

"Your mother is a hero to the Nordic people. During the Markarth Incident, she had slain seven Briarhearts with only her two hands and her courage. I had a couple of mentors there who saw the whole thing. They said she moved faster than they had seen anyone in their lives..."

Ralof decided to pipe in. "And saved a lot of people doing so. Those Briarhearts would've cut them down without a second thought."

The legionnaire secured the splint. "Right. Ulfric may have lead the militia, but she was just as much a leader of it alongside-"

He didn't know what happened next. Only that his back was slammed into a wall and a forearm was planted firmly against his throat.

Hadvar desperately clawed at Perseus's arm and hopelessly kicked out, but a blade to his abdomen stopped any movement. It was then he realized that there was no pressure pressed against his throat. In fact, there was nothing really holding him from countering except the point of the Aurelius' sword.

His eyes met Perseus' and it wasn't like anything he had seen. He had seen darkness in many of his enemies' eyes and he had fought a lot of enemies in his time with the Legion. Although none matched up to the abundance that resided in those eyes.

Hate and anger. Pure and relinquished hate and anger were the only things that comprised of his soul and the man did nothing to hide it. That wasn't it though. He couldn't even begin to process what all he saw in his eyes and that unnerved him to the core. He didn't know what to expect from the man.

"I know the story and I know who else was involved! It doesn't mean I want to hear it again, so shut up! Do you understand me!?"

He stuttered on his words.

"Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Y-Yes," Hadvar agreed shakenly. He knew he had crossed the line and wasn't about to push the guy. He felt the tip of the blade fall and the man's forearm return to his side. Sheathing his blade, Perseus turn his back on the legionnaire.

"Good..."

The man looked at Ralof. "Can you walk?"

The Stormcloak stood himself up, using the table as a prop. "Barely, but I can make it..."

Perseus turned his attention back on him. "Are you going to keep your mouth shut unless it's something important?"

The legionnaire recomposed himself the best he could before responding.

"Yes..."

He stared at him for a minute, probably in disbelief, before nodding his head. "Well... lead the way."

**-o-O-o-**

_**9:23 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Keep**_

It took Perseus a lot longer than it should have to gain a cool head.

He hadn't even wanted to threaten the Nord. There wasn't a bone in his body that really wanted to do anything, so the question was: why did he do what he did?

The Aurelius pondered the thought as he walked behind Hadvar and in front of Ralof, the former with his sword drawn in one hand and a torch in the other while the latter limped to the best of his ability.

The keep was quiet for the most part, sans for the roar of the flying beast that would occasionally echo through, reminding them that it's still there and still razing the place to the ground. It was a good enough motivation, to say the least, for all three of them to keep moving.

"If we can get to the storage room, we can get you two some potions," He turned to Ralof. "It won't fix your leg, but it will help the pain."

"And maybe move a little faster," Perseus muttered to himself. Tremors rocked the entire keep, nearly threatening to take the structure down. He could only assume it was the dragon.

"That dragon isn't letting up... it wasn't attacking the keep like this earlier. Why now?" Hadvar had a point. It was suspicious for a supposedly wild dragon to begin targeting a building. It was even more suspicious for it to do so immediately after they had made the keep their shelter. And the way that monster had looked at him like he was chicken...

The group turned the corner into a long hallway with a door to their left. Barely any light illuminated the hallway. The only source came from the end, where a small torch shown the shadows of a group of legionnaires with the captain from earlier in the lead.

They moved behind the corner before Hadvar could call out to them. Whatever he tried to say to them fell short anyway as the ceiling before them came crashing down, blocking the hallway off.

"Damn!" Hadvar cursed. As the dust settled, it became clear that they weren't going out that way. Piles of fallen stone too large for anyone to move laid in their path.

"No matter. The storage area is just through this door. C'mon," the legionnaire beckoned as he opened the door. Perseus followed suit, throwing Ralof's arm around his shoulder in order to speed things along.

Passing through the portal, the Nord-Imperial inspected the room, which appeared as though it had already been swept and cleaned. The multitude of shelves, believed to be stocked with appealing food and quenching drinks, were barren with only the dust sitting placidly on the wood. It felt like a punch in the gut.

"There's nothing here," Ralof bit out as Perseus rested the injured Nord in a nearby chair. A frown naturally set upon the Aurelius' face before his disappointed eyes turned to the legionnaire.

"He's right. Nothing out in the open anyway," his voice trailed. Hadvar caught on to the hidden meaning behind his words where Ralof didn't.

"What do you mean?"

Hadvar marched further into the storage room and towards a stack of barrels that rested on the far side. "The group ahead of us might've not checked inside the drawers or barrels."

Perseus jogged over the nearby shelves and began pulling out every drawer, emptying them out before tossing them to the gravel. The only fruits of his efforts included a small green vial.

"Stamina potion... could come in handy," Perseus mumbled as he stashed it in his knapsack.

"Perseus, over here!"

He quickly joined the Nord. "What is it?"

Hadvar held out his palm, revealing the item they sought after. A smile broke across Perseus' dirtied face.

"Great. This will speed things along quite nicely," he swept the vial from the legionnaire's palm, turning on his heel. With that, Perseus grabbed the blond Nord's hand and slapped the potion in his hand.

"Drink up. You should feel a little better," Ralof did as the Aurelius instructed, wasting no time to down the bittersweet potion. Tossing the vial down, the Stormcloak coughed violently with his hand clutched at his abdomen.

"Damn. I forgot how bad a healing potion tasted," Ralof gagged. Perseus stay crouched in front of the man until he had finished his fit before he spoke.

"Feeling better?"

Clearing his throat, Ralof muttered, "Ye-yeah. A lot."

Patting the Nord on the shoulder, Perseus stood. "Good."

The Aurelius watched as he pushed himself gently off the chair, placing his good leg down and hovering his broken one a mere inch off the ground. Palm against the wall, he methodically eased his foot down to make contact with the stone floor.

Something came to Perseus' mind, catching him slightly off guard. He had broken a vow of his.

In order to disappear completely, he promised to erase who he used to be, but here he was, making sure this Nord, a traitor nonetheless, was going to be alright. Hell, he had even forgotten about masking his identity. Now Ulfric, Tullius, a Stormcloak, and a couple of legionnaires knew of his displacement to Skyrim.

_So much for staying low-key..._

"It's not hurting bad, but it's still there. I can manage, but don't expect me to fight," the Stormcloak replied, taking baby steps forward in tolerance. Perseus nodded in disbelief, but accepted his word all the same. As Perseus downed a potion for his still injured side, Hadvar shouted to them.

"We got a couple of extras just in case, so let us know."

It was almost snarky the way Ralof spoke to the legionnaire. "Thank you, friend."

The burly Nord glanced back at him, distaste shining bright in his eyes. "Are you done, because in case you haven't noticed, there's a dragon trying to get inside this keep and I'm sure the last thing you want to do is make more enemies than you already have?!"

The crippled Stormcloak drug his foot along in a mad attempt to get in Hadvar's face. "If your damn Legion fought harder all those years ago, I would have a lot less enemies! It's your fault tha-"

Stone trembled all around them, dust from the structures filling the air. A brutal reminder of what was trying to break its way inside.

Perseus stepped up between the two, the ringing of steel filling the room before he stuck his sword just between the feuding Nords. "Settle this later. We need to get out of here first."

The anger-filled eyes of Hadvar met the unnerved eyes of Perseus. He thought for a moment the legionnaire would lash out like a normal Nord would, but nothing came his way. It seemed the Legion had taught him well enough.

With a sigh, he turned on his heel. "You're right... we need to get moving."

The Aurelius stepped sharply in front of Ralof, exaggerating his step to make his point known towards the enraged Stormcloak. He didn't care if it got the blond Nord a little huffy. Those two could duke it out afterwards for all he cared, but with more people on his side, the better his chances were of getting out of here alive.

_Even though Ralof probably won't make it..._

He shook his head swiftly. That didn't matter. Nothing else did except getting to Windhelm. He had to constantly remind himself of that should he ever get second thoughts.

There was so much that could go wrong with his plan, yet so much that could go right. If he got to Windhelm, his new life would begin in earnest. The problem was he didn't have the slightest idea where the city was.

_One thing at a time._

Shifting his grip on his sword, he refocused himself. That group in front of them would more than likely be moving slower than they were due to their size, which created a problem. The three men would eventually catch up with them and since their group was led by that damned captain, Perseus doubted they would favor them bringing a Stormcloak along.

A set of downward stairs came into his sights. The soft and flickering glow of a flame illuminated the bottom of the stairs, casting the shadow of a steel spiked cage across the rubble ridden floor.

"The torture room... gods, I wish we didn't need these," Hadvar spoke bitterly in a low tone. The snicker from behind spoke for the Nord-Imperial, but also against him. He knew exactly what went on in an Imperial torture room. He had lost count how many times his father had brought him to the ones in the Imperial City. It never sat well for either of them, but they knew sometimes they were a necessary evil.

The cackling of lightning broke his thoughts in a snap.

"Shor's bones, I hate mages," Perseus muttered.

"You and me both," Hadvar spoke, glancing back at their charge. "I doubt they are going to take our wounded friend here very well so just let me do the talking. Ralof, stay behind the wall... for all our sakes."

The Stormcloak huffed in reluctant acceptance as he finally rejoined them.

"Is that a problem?" Hadvar just had to add on.

"It will be if you mess this up," was Ralof's curt reply.

"Hadvar, let's go," Perseus pushed. They stepped around the corner simultaneously, taking in the scene.

It was the stereotypical torture room. Iron cages lined the left wall, all containing at least four Stormcloaks and a fallen mage, garbed in typical mages. Their bodies laid inept, devoid of life. It was obvious what had occurred here. To their right was an armory of sorts, carrying various light and heavy weaponry. What caught Perseus' eye though was a standard iron shield, something he would probably need here soon in case all goes up in smoke.

A man in light Imperial armor stood in front of one of the cages. HIs hood concealed his head from view and his hands held miniature storms of lightning.

_There's our mage... probably the torturer too..._

Flanking the torturer was presumably his assistant, who stood tall and considerably stocky for an Imperial. Other than that, he seemed to be the usual Imperial legionnaire who wielded a mace.

"That last little traitor didn't last long at all... although, he did take his death better than the bigger men. Sad, really. Pathetic, nonetheless," the torturer stated coldly, almost pleasantly. The lightning in his palms vanished, only leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.

The legionnaire was the first to take notice of the two men walking towards them. A deep, throaty voice spoke up. "Hadvar, what's going on out there? We keep getting trembles in here!"

Sheathing his blade, the Nord legionnaire approached his brother in arms until he was just within arm's reach before they grasped each other's forearms in camaraderie. Perseus kept his blade out for good measure.

"The tribune's group didn't tell you?" Hadvar questioned.

"They ran past before we could even question them. Didn't even look back or speak."

"There's a dragon attacking the keep. You two need to get out now," Hadvar barked urgently, casting chain of command out the window.

Perseus looked on, baffled by Hadvar's blunt approach. Unless the ranks changed without him knowing, torturers typically held officer ranks, even though they aren't often referred to by their actual rank. It was more of a placeholder more than anything. Their assistants, however, were actual warfighting legionnaires and held the rank of quaestor.

The Aurelius suspected Hadvar's rank was the same, so barking at the torturer like that was by the book insubordination and the torturer was having none of it.

"You don't have the authority to order me around, quaestor. I'd suggest you learn your place before you join these poor souls," the torturer spat in distaste, pointing to the deceased men in the cages.

"I'm sorry, sir, but didn't you hear what I said? A _dragon_ is attacking the keep!"

"Dragons have been dead for centuries. I doubt they're back now... although, it would explain all the noises and rumbling that has been disturbing my work," the torturer pondered the thought. Perseus was losing his patience. They were wasting time here.

"Forget the old man. I'm coming with-"

A shout of pain from behind them caught them off-guard, causing everyone to pull a one-eighty. Perseus' eyes widened in fear.

_Shor's bones..._

Lying on the ground and clutching his leg was Ralof, flanked by two more legionnaires who roughly grabbed him by his arms, hauled him up and casted him in front of the torturer's feet. "Sir, we found this coward eavesdropping on your conversation behind the wall. He's all yours."

The Aurelius shared a feared look with Hadvar, who glanced at him with a similar, yet less severe expression, before he looked back on the scene.

"Very well. You two are dismissed," the torturer responded with a sick grin plastered on his wrinkled face. The two legionnaires slammed their fist to their chests with a loud thud before sprinting past Perseus and Hadvar through the hallway behind them.

"Now what sort of pain should I inflict on you before I send you to whatever plain of Oblivion, I wonder..." While the torturer expanded his ego further, Perseus eyed the shield he spotted earlier and treaded slowly as if he was walking on ice towards the item.

Gently lifting the shield from its resting place, he slid his arm through the leather bands on the underside of the shield and grasped it firmly. Swing his arm back and forth, he began getting a feel for the shield. It was light and composed of simple iron and wood, but it would do the job.

Resting his shield arm by his side, Perseus bounced his blade in his palm in anticipation. He slowly rejoined Hadvar and shared an apologetic glance with the legionnaire.

"I'll get the assistant. You get the torturer. Make this easier for the both of us," Perseus whispered in cold compassion.

Hadvar gave him an incredulous look. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Look, I know it is clear-cut treason. I'm in the same situation as you, but he won't make it out of here unless we do something," Perseus reasoned. Hadvar wanted more than that though.

"Why? What makes his life more important that theirs?"

A pause. "It's not that. He's one of Ulfric's lieutenants and could have valuable information that could help, but if they kill him, that information is gone. That information could turn the tide of the war and possibly win it for the Legion. Do you want that?"

Now it was Hadvar's turn to pause and think. Perseus stared at him for what felt like hours until he got an answer.

"I understand where you are coming from, but can we at least try reasoning with them first?"

Perseus groaned light enough for the legionnaire to miss his noise of annoyance. "Go ahead."

Hadvar stepped forward. The Aurelius shook his head in disapproval. He admired his nobility and effort to make some peace, but this wasn't a time for that. Those men wouldn't hesitate to strike them down if they discovered their association with the rebel.

"Sir, if I may?" Hadvar asked. The torturer gave him a look before nodding. "I saw him talking with Ulfric just before the attack. He may know something. Let me take him out of here and get him to Solitude for interrogation. It's not safe here," Hadvar spoke, putting every ounce of confidence in his proposal.

A hum escaped from the torturer's lips and a pause followed. "Am I supposed to just take your word that a dragon, a mythical creature that only exists in stories and fairytales, is attacking the keep and that this pathetic-looking Stormcloak, in usual Stormcloak attire and shows no evidence, is one of Ulfric's lieutenants?"

Drawing his steel dagger, the torturer faced him as sparks cackled to life in his empty palm. "If I am supposed to believe all of that, I'd say I could believe you being a damned rebel in our armor."

"Hold on, sir. He's one of-" The assistant was cut off.

"Silence!" the torturer barked, waving his dagger in the legionnaire's direction and ending any protest. Hadvar had no words, causing Perseus pinched the bridge of his nose. The torturer was right. They had no evidence saying otherwise and unless Hadvar retaliated, they were about to be made.

_No choice now..._

The Aurelius took the moment to make his presence known and stepped up. "What he says is true. I was there."

The dagger was now pointed in his direction. "And who do you think you are?"

"I _know_ I am Perseus Aurelius, son of General and Councilman Crassus Aurelius, and that you are out of line speaking to me in such a manner..."

His face was mere inches from the old man's as he towered over him. "… So I'd suggest you best fix yourself, _Auxiliary._"

It was a standoff no longer when Perseus flashed his identification card to the torturer, who withdrew his dagger and retreated backward in order to drop to his knees. No question came from the old man. He had broken through his confident front. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I had no id-"

"Get up. We're leaving with him and you are not stopping us. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my Lord," he stated, standing clear of the Aurelius. Perseus sharply nodded at Hadvar, who took the hint. After the legionnaire had slung Ralof over his shoulder, he made his way behind Perseus and into the passage. The Nord-Imperial turned to follow them but halted his motion in mid-step.

"Oh, and I am here on important and _secret _business on behalf of the Empire so if you even spread word that I am here in Skyrim, I will erase your very existence from the face of Nirn. Clear?"

"Crystal, my Lord," the torturer replied, his head bowed in respect. With a nod, Perseus turned his attention to the other legionnaire in the room.

"The same applies to you, quaestor. Clear?"

It took the Imperial a moment before it registered who the Aurelius was speaking to. "Y-Yes, my Lord."

Without sparing another glance, Perseus turned on his heel and left the men in his wake. He rejoined the two men, Ralof still slung over the shoulders of Hadvar. The Aurelius stared at him for a moment before the legionnaire took notice.

"We can move faster this way. Besides, it appears we are in your debt so I am considering this even," Hadvar spoke. Perseus' eyes narrowed.

"No. Not even close. I came to Skyrim with the intention of not revealing my true identity and fading from the world, out of sight and out of mind, but already I have had to reveal my identity on multiple occasions. Most of them are probably dead already and I'm sure that torturer and his dog will follow soon, so all that leaves is you two," he paused, pointing his finger towards the both of them.

"If I lacked a shred of morality, you two would be dead already, but I am trusting you not to disclose my presence here, so to make things even, you will not say a word of my existence here when we make it out... _if_ we make it out. Clear?" He had surprised himself. He didn't know he could speak with such ferocity as he just did.

The men nodded to the best of their ability. "Yes." - "Aye."

"Good. Let's go," Perseus ordered, stepping it out through the hallway with Hadvar and Ralof in tow.

It seemed they had entered the dungeons area of the keep, seeing the iron cages hanging from the ceiling and the cells that were embedded within the stone walls. Every now and then there would be a corpse or skeleton resting inept in their confinements, intensifying the stink of the dead and burning even more so.

"The torturers the Legion puts forth are ruthless and uncaring... and apparently do not care for respecting the dead. There's no telling how long those corpses have been there," Hadvar piped up nasally. Looking back at the Nord, the Aurelius saw only his eyes. His mouth and nose were cupped by his only free hand.

His reaction was understandable, but there were more things at stake than just their lack of comfort. The voices that echoed ahead of them served as a reminder of such.

"It's the Tribune again..." Hadvar murmured. "Perseus, if she sees the Stormcloak in our company, she will surely turn her blades on us. We will be in for a fight and I'm not sure if we can handle all of them..."

Perseus took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to be optimistic about this, he couldn't deny the odds against them.

"Then we'll die trying."

Moving into the open area, they sent their prayers to the gods above.

_**Author's Note:**_** Here's the next chapter and thank God I managed to get it out. Adjusting to college took a huge chunk out of my time and by the time break was here, I was too exhausted to do much of anything...**

**That and Dragon Age: Inquisition. That game is the most addictive game I've ever played in the history of ever.**

**I apologize for the tardiness of this chapter. I wanted to finish off the Unbound section in two chapters but it's ended up three. I get a wee bit carried away writing. I'm starting on three now. **

**A couple of things to note: one is that I will be referring to the Imperial Legion ranks by their names according to lore, not as captain, private, sergeant, etc., but tribune, auxiliary, quaestor, etc. If you need more info, go look it up on the Elder Scrolls Wiki page. That place possesses a wealth of info.**

**A special thanks to these individuals for following, favoring, and reviewing my story: Darknight48, Ralince, Sonicman66, WolfFang1011, theta117, Perpetual Dreaming**

**Remember to follow, favorite, and review! It supports me more than you know. **

**-Will**

_**Review Responses**_

_**Perpetual Dreaming: **_**Thank you! That's what I was going for when I first started writing this Perseus. He's in the process of changing after being put through a traumatic experience. He's a damaged guy, for reasons that will be revealed later. His motives and actions are unknown, even to himself. Stay tuned.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three: See the World**_

_**10:03 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Underground**_

Their group had grown larger than she would've cared for. Luckily for them, fighting the savage rebels thinned their ranks down to a relatively acceptable number. It still wasn't good enough for her though.

Glancing around, her eyes scanned the five legionnaires that had joined her and her mouth formed a scowl at their pathetic states. Most were on their butts, grasping their wounds and panting for a breath of air while one was busy annoying her with their status.

"... four in the fighting, Tribune, but the Stormcloaks are dead. Everyone else is either wounded or fatigued..." her eyebrow twitched in anticipation and annoyance of what she knew the legionnaire was going to say next.

"We need to stop and rest. I don't think anyone can go any further, including yourself-" His voice seized in his throat at the glare of the Imperial officer.

"Damn the rest and damn them! I'm getting out of here. Stop and rest if you please, but I'm still going," the Tribune shouted, storming in the opposite direction without remorse. She knew the man was right. The steady pain in her arm and back remind her of that, but _that _dragon...

She heard a stutter before the legionnaire's voice piped up again. "I know you're just as scared as I we are, but-"

That halted her in her tracks. "I am _not_ afraid, Auxiliary! Now shut your shit-ridden tongue before you lose it!"

The legionnaire shrunk back and turned away before he could face her full wrath. He just didn't know when to stop talking. Everything he said though was the truth, as adamant as she was against admitting it.

She was starting to feel as though she was having a good day too, beginning her day with the beheading of Ulfric Stormcloak. Nothing would've pleased her more than to see his head part from his shoulders, but that damned dragon had interfered. If she didn't think so lowly of him, she might've thought it was his dragon.

_What a ludicrous idea... he doesn't have _that _much power._

But she knew he could have. Ulfric would definitely play this to his advantage.

The dying shout of legionnaires interrupted her thoughts, which only served to annoy her. Spinning around, she drew her blade, only for it to intercept the blade of a fellow legionnaire.

"Hadvar, what is the meaning of this infraction?!" she shrieked in a mixture of surprise and disgust. "Do you know what you hav-"

He spoke no words. He did nothing except dragging his sword down hers and thrusting forward, encouraging her to strafe to the side in order to avoid the afterlife. She was not prepared for this.

Her strafe only served to send the pain shooting through her back again, which caused her to stumble on her own feet and she began to parry the strikes from Hadvar. She was barely managing and she knew it.

A wide arc coming from her right broke through her already broken defense, slicing through her leather and nicking her skin. More pain followed. Blood and sweat flowed equally from her body. Hadvar wasn't listening to reason and wasn't holding back.

Grasping her side, the Tribune lifted her blade weakly to the Nord. "Traitorous bastard... you will die for your betrayal!"

The Nord spoke no words. He only raised his blade and held his hand out in anticipation. It wasn't like him, she realized. Hadvar was always the idealist type, always looking for another way to do things. He was definitely an outspoken one. To see his mouth sealed tight was out of character.

It was then she saw his eyes and they revealed all. He didn't want to do this. The conviction wasn't there. A sickly smile graced her face.

"You pathetic little man... give up! You lack the conviction to finish this. To finish off one of your own... you won't do it!"

The jab worked to a certain extent. Hadvar's hand dropped and hovered and his blinked his eyes. That was all she needed for an opening.

"Die, traitor!" She shouted as lunged form, sword in the air in preparation to strike down the staggering Nord. It was to be a clean kill, straight down the chest. If only a plain shield hadn't intercepted her strike and a iron sword cleaved through the fur and bit into her waist.

_Wha..._

Another man in a dark brown cloak had appeared between the two. He was the owner of the sword and shield that had foiled her. Stepping back and clutching her new would, the Tribune gasped for air as she met eyes with the man, only to see diamond-hard, cold blues staring her back.

_Those eyes... monstrous..._

Her legs finally gave out, falling to her knees and dropping her blade as a result. Her vision blurred and her strength left her. She couldn't even stop herself from falling on her back. It was her time.

_NO! It's not my time! Not yet... I must... _

The darkness surrounded her. She did not wish for her last sight of life to be the ceiling of a ragged cavern. Her wish came to fruition, as the man who would be credited for her death appeared in what remaining sight she had.

_Slain by a damned Nord... what have I done to deserve this?_

She saw his blade come to hover over her face. Blood had soaked the weapon. It wasn't hard to tell where it all came from either. It was safe to assume that her group was dead and she would be the last to go.

A blade bearing down on her assured that.

**-o-O-o-**

_**10:11 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Underground**_

"What were you thinking? Hesitating on finishing her of and letting her get to you like that? Do you want to die?!"

Hadvar gave him an incredulous look. "Are you joking? They're our brothers and sisters!"

"They would've fought back and you know it! That bitch had them wrapped around her finger!" Perseus shouted in retaliation.

"You don't know that..."

That drove Perseus to get in his face. "Neither do you! Don't be a damned fool! It's killed or be killed! Not be remorseful or sympathetic to the fucking enemy! Grow up!"

Their conflict ended with the Aurelius storming off to the side, mumbling incoherently under his breath, but Hadvar wasn't focused on him at the moment. All he could do was stare at the carcass of the fallen Imperial Tribune. His confidence had been undermined by mere words.

_She's right... how could I..._

His eyes did what they shouldn't have done. They slowly moved from one dead legionnaire to another, the remorse building within himself ever so more. He grit his teeth in bubbling anger and sorrowful regret.

_Gods, help me._

A tap on his head brought him back to the world. "You done sympathizing?"

He could only gaze at the Aurelius. The expression on his face must've given Perseus his answer. He breathed a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before sharply bringing his hands to his sides.

"Look, I understand how you feel, but this isn't the time for that. You know good and well that that Tribune would've ordered their blades on us and we wouldn't have survived all of them coming at us at once. Use your head!" Perseus lightly tapped his head to illustrate his point.

"You're right, but..."

Perseus turned his back to Hadvar and walked forward, pausing after a few steps. "We had no choice. We have a bigger enemy to face than each other. We did what we had to. Mourn them and move on... it's all we can do..."

His voice trailed off before he walked ahead. The legionnaire stared at his back, his mind not knowing where it was going. The sound of Perseus' voice was a helpless, weary tone, drowned with pain and suffering.

It was almost a relief to Hadvar, in truth. It was good to know that under such a cold exterior that there was an ounce of humanity within the Aurelius...

"Perseus, wait! What about me?!"

...sort of.

_He forgot about the damn Stormcloak..._

The thud of Ralof collapsing at the top of the stairs rubbed him the wrong way. With the Aurelius moving on ahead in his usual brooding manner, it fell on him to carry the enemy... again.

"Gah... hold on, Ralof," the legionnaire groaned in bitterness, making his way to Ralof. Grabbing the injured Nord's wrist and pushing his shoulder with his free hand, he pushed the Stormcloak up to where he rested on his knees. Apparently, he thought something was funny about that.

"Heh... I guess Perseus is more Nord than I thought," Ralof chuckled. Hadvar snorted in response, throwing the blond Nord onto his shoulders.

"I don't think so. His so called 'sneak attack' was dirty, worthy of his Imperial blood," the blond shook his head rapidly, followed by another light chuckle.

"Not that, Hadvar," the legionnaire heard a groan interrupt his sentence. "I'm talking about how he bears the misery that plagues him. I don't think he even knows it yet, but he is more like his mother than he realizes."

Hadvar had to let that one soak in a bit. As much as his opinion of the Aurelius wavered between a good one and a bad one, Ralof had a point. Whatever ate away at his heart, Perseus bore it well enough. Maybe, the man had another Aisha Heart-Slayer waiting to emerge...

_Gah, what am I thinking... focus!_

Picking up a jog, Hadvar rejoined Perseus just as he was pulling a lever to extend the bridge that lead directly into the underground of Helgen. It hadn't been used in several years, if ever according to Hadvar's memory and everything he has been told about the old fort. Evidence of such came from the absurd amount of cobwebs that tore away from the lever once it was moved.

Creaking filled his ears and the bridge dropped, slamming into the stone ground. The wood showed its age when it made impact to the stone by sending splinters of wood hurling into the air. Light filled the passage and down that passage lain another open cavern.

Turning to look at the two, Perseus spoke up, "Glad you two could make it. May we perhaps get a move on?"

Hadvar adjusted Ralof on his shoulders before giving a response with a scoff. "Yes. Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this place to last a lifetime."

"On that, we can agree."

**-o-O-o-**

_**10:18 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Underground**_

Moving forward without looking back seemed to be a profession of Perseus' as of late. Making others do the same seemed to be also.

He never intended to put Hadvar through that. Then again, he never expected the Tribune to have the gall to taunt the surly Nord the way she did. Even though he may have had an outburst after she was dead and gone, Perseus hadn't even considered how the legionnaire was feeling or what he was thinking.

_I've turned into quite the ass, haven't I... heh, father wouldn't be happy with that..._

A memory of his past life filled his thoughts.

_A child Perseus sat across from his father with a simple wooden table between the two and a chess board resting on the surface. As his father, dressed in his usual work attire, observed the chest board and stroked the stubble on his face, the younger boy fiddled and adjusted the robes that his father had made for him._

_"Fatherrrr! Why do I have to wear these crummy robes?! They're uncomfortable and I can't play in them!"_

_The older man responded with a faint laugh without breaking his focus on the board. "I know, my son. Those robes are not designed for such functionality. Only to demonstrate your royal standing in the Empire."_

_Perseus pouted in confusion and lack of understanding, causing his father to tear his eyes from the chess board to look at his boy. A smile graced Crassus' face before he reached cross the table and ruffled the boy's black hair._

_"Hey! Stop it! Mother just fixed it!" he cried out. His father erupted in laughter. Perseus' outburst only reinvigorated Crassus' efforts._

_"Did she now? Are you going to go tell Mother?" The boy threw his father's hand off his head and made a break for the door. Crassus leapt from his chair and wrapped his arms around Perseus' waist, slinging the boy over his shoulders. Absurd amounts of laughter filled the room from both parties as Crassus felt his son pounding on his back._

_"Put me down! I'm going to tell Mother!" Perseus laughed._

_"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Crassus responded in equal laughter. The opening of the door halted the both of them in their tracks, freezing them solid and turning their attention to the door. Their eyes widened in fear._

_"Mother" - "Aisha, dear."_

_A beautiful blond Nord stood in the portal, hands on her hips and a deceivingly innocent smile graced her peaceful expression. She, unlike her husband and son, wore a fur-trimmed cloak with fur-lined boots that expressed her proud Nordic heritage._

_"So this is where you've went? I was enjoying the grindstone until one of those councilmen of yours interrupted me, asking where you have gone off too. Some important meeting of theirs that they couldn't conduct without their Head Councilman?"_

_Setting down his son, Crassus moved to respond but the little boy had something to say about that._

_"To Oblivion with them! Father and I are playing!" Perseus shouted, stomping on the ground and throwing his clenched fists in the air. A slap on the back of the head followed._

_"Watch yourself, son," the older man responded. The boy looked up at his father with shock in his eyes._

_"But father-" his father's hand coming to rest on the top Perseus' head halted any response as Crassus dropped to a knee._

_"Be nice, my son. You must treat others the same way you want to be treated. You wouldn't want that wished upon you, now would you?" The boy shook his head in response. Crassus patted him on the head before rising from his crouched position._

_"Good. Now go play with Cato and Aldwin. I'm sure they would be happy to see you," at the mention of his friends, Perseus' visage brightened before he flew past his father and hugged his mother before going through the door._

_"I'm going to play with Cato and Aldwin, Mother! I'll be back for dinner," she smiled, looking behind her as Perseus took off down the hall and rounded the corner, out of sight and out of mind._

The water trickling down his face brought him from his memories. As he moved to wipe it off his face, he peered up in curiosity of where the water was coming from. It didn't seem the ceiling was dripping any water from any crevices it may have possessed. Tasting the water itself, Perseus tasted something that shouldn't have been in the water: salt. The water was salty...

He knew where it came from now.

Upon realization, Perseus blinked his eyes rapidly and wiped away anymore tears that could come. He was baffled at this occasion.

_I... haven't cried since..._

Before he could think anymore, the cavern started to tremble as if the whole foundation was about to give in. It was then he remember their situation and what exactly was after them.

"Run! Get to the open cavern!" Perseus shouted to the men behind him. Opening into a sprint, the Aurelius leaped from the passage and into the open cavern. Landing not so gracefully, he crashed into the stone shoulder first, goading a cry of pain from Perseus.

The rumbling only intensified before the ceiling gave way. Boulders upon boulders fell in the passageway, cutting off any possibility of backtracking and sending dust hurling into the air.

The Aurelius picked himself off the ground, his shoulder pulsing in pain. Inhaling at possibly the worst time, Perseus was racked by coughs. He barely managed to speak even a few words.

"Hadvar... Ralof! You there?!"

More coughing filled his ears that wasn't his own. It was good enough for an answer. Waiting for a moment, Perseus slowly began moving back up the staircase, through the thick cloud of dust that still obstructed his view. Reaching his hand out, the Aurelius blindly waved about in an attempt to find the passageway.

His hand came to land on uncut rock. Roaming his hands around more, he only found more uncut rock. It confirmed his suspicion.

"Well we're not going back that way. Completely sealed off," Perseus shouted, turning around in the process. The dust had cleared by then, revealing Hadvar just getting back on his feet and Ralof sitting up.

"The others will have to find another way out of here," Hadvar breathed out, exhausted. Perseus only nodded in response. His focus remained on checking his gear and making sure all was there. Seeing nothing was missing, he walked over to the legionnaire and the Stormcloak.

"I'll take Ralof this time, Hadvar," the surly Nord made eye contact with a nod and drew his sword. As Hadvar began walking forward, Perseus grabbed Ralof and slung him on his shoulders before resuming their trek again.

As they moved forward, the Aurelius' mind drew back to the collapsing corridor and to the cause behind it. It was no doubt that black dragon after the keep again. It was still rampaging about outside, that much was obvious. What he wondered about however was whether or not the Legion was still putting up a fight outside. As much as he wanted to convince himself that was the case, he couldn't believe that. Not after what he had seen that dragon do.

It also led him to believe that the corridor collapsing on top of them was no coincidence either. The others might have called Perseus a lunatic for believing the dragon was personally dogging him, but after meeting eyes with the beast and judging from the earlier collapses, he couldn't help but to think that the dragon was after him. Why was the question.

Perseus shook his head rapidly. First things first, though. He had to make it out of here before he could worry about the bigger picture.

For the rest of their trek, his mind stayed on track, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. All that remained in front of them were the natural cave formations that lead the way. Without a second thought, they followed the passage.

It was fairly straightforward with not many other options to spare. Perseus took the time to make sure of that. Either there were no cracks of crevices within the tunnel, or the lack of light was hiding any other option. Only the solid stone walls that surrounded them.

He would occasionally feel a drop of water fall on his persona or on Ralof, who was busy mumbling about their situation. Perseus couldn't blame him. Things didn't look well.

Upon reaching a slope in the path, a sound of clicking echoed through the cavern. In reaction, Hadvar shot his fist into the air. Perseus stopped cold in his tracks.

"Another thing I hate: giant spiders. I'm going to need you in this fight, Perseus. There are at least six of them," Hadvar whispered. Setting Ralof on his butt and propping him against the wall, the Aurelius drew his sword and shield and eased up on the legionnaire's right.

"What do you mean by 'at least'?" Shaking his head darkly, Hadvar answered.

"The cave isn't lit very well. The only source of light comes from that hole in the ceiling and while it's a decent size, it doesn't light the whole cave. There could be more...," they were outnumbered and injured as well. Things _definitely _didn't look well.

Hadvar tapped him on the shoulder and pointed towards their left. "Look! More light. Must be a way out. We could sneak around the left side and avoid the spiders altogether."

Perseus nodded his head. "Normally, I'd agree with you, but there are two things wrong with that. One: sneaking would be hard with an injured man on one of our backs and while we could pull it off, it wouldn't be good if one of those buggers discovered us.

"Two: if your hunch is right, then there are more waiting in the darkness. We could be in bigger trouble then," Perseus stood and adjusted his grip on his iron shield and his iron sword.

"If we charge now, we may surprise them and if we hit them in the right spot, we could come out of this alive. Stay on the move and don't let them corner you," it was more of an order than a suggestion, but Hadvar seemed to agree with a nod of his head.

"On you, Perseus," turning to look at the injured Stormcloak, Perseus observed the blond Nord before a smirk graced his face.

"Don't go anywhere. We'll be right back," Ralof snorted in response.

"Don't worry. I won't be going anywhere," Perseus turned to observe their newfound prey. His eyes remained solely on the two bigger spiders and their patterns of movement. They would occasionally cross the median of the cave and move to meet near the men's location.

"Wait for them to make their way back up the middle. As soon as they've turned, cut the left one down. I'll take the right one," the Aurelius commanded, not taking his eyes off the oversized pest. The two bugs met and turned their backs to the legionnaire and the Aurelius.

"Now!"

Both men charged forward, shields in the front and swords by their side. It didn't take long to cover the distance, especially breaking at full speed. The movement managed to catch the rest of the bugs' attention, but by then it was too late.

Grinding his feet into the ground, Perseus slid to a halt directly beside the spider's head. Observing the insect, he saw the opening he hoped for. The joint between the head and rest of the body laid completely exposed to the man, causing Perseus to break out a smile.

_Perfect._

He wasted no time raising his blade to the sky before bringing it back down with all his might. It would be a quick kill, allowing Perseus to focus on the rest of the insects. Or so Perseus thought.

The blade did the worst thing possible: lodge his blade into the spider's abdomen.

He missed the joint by a small margin.

_Ahhh! Shor's bones!_

A part of him panicked, sending Perseus into a frenzy in an attempt to free his sword from the belly of the beast. He pulled with all his might, but to no avail. Before he could get his shield hand on the handle, the giant spider turned his fangs, pincers, whatever, on Perseus.

_Damn! Jump back!_

He leaped back just in time to avoid the closing jaws of the insect, but at the cost of his sword, which remained stuck in the beast's abdomen. Glancing over at Hadvar, who had succeeded in his attack and was now fending off the remaining insects by eliminating them one at a time. Turning his attention back on the giant pest just in time to dodge the pincers again.

_I have to get my sword back..._

Crouching down slightly, Perseus rose his shield in anticipation of the spider's next attack. The beast started scuttling to his left and the Aurelius followed him, never taking his eyes off the spider. His attentiveness paid off. When the spider bared its pincers and lunged forward again, Perseus leaped to the left, placing himself directly beside the monster. His sword was there, waiting for him.

A grin broke across his face as he reached out with both his hands and grasped the blade. He heaved upward with all his strength, finally removing the blade from the spider. Rearing back, Perseus flipped his sword around in his hand and brought the tip down on the beast's head. Its limbs went limp and its body dropped soon after.

_One down..._

His peripheral vision caught a smaller spider leaping at him from the darkness. In a fluid motion, the Aurelius slammed his shield into the creature's head, sending it flying backwards in a heap before he followed up and swung his sword into its belly.

Pulling his sword back to his side at the ready, he spun around hastily, searching for another spider to combat, but none were there. Perseus stood there and scanned the area. His eyes landed on Hadvar, who had just thrown the blood of his blade with a swift flick of his wrist.

"Is that all of them?" Perseus questioned more so out to himself than to Hadvar, who ended up answering anyway.

"I think so... you looked like you had some trouble there at first. You all right?" Perseus shrugged his sword arm many times before giving him a solid answer.

"The only thing hurt was what little pride I had left, so I'm good. You should probably get Ralof this time. I need to work out my kinks," the Aurelius responded, even more bitterly than earlier. He could practically feel the legionnaire's eyes burning a hole into the back of his skull before Hadvar walked off to grab Ralof.

_How am I going to survive this place?_

**-o-O-o-**

_**10:33 A.M., 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201**_

_**Location: Helgen Underground**_

"How could you have possibly gotten any heavier since you first got injured?" Ralof couldn't help but laugh at Hadvar's inquiry.

"I guess you got weaker since then, kinsman," was the Nord's hardy response.

"Don't try to play friend with me, Ralof. We're still enemies."

There was the bitter reminder that the Stormcloak was trying hard to avoid. It hurt him hard to hear that his oldest friend had joined the Legion as opposed to joining the rebellion, but it didn't surprise him in the least bit. Hadvar had always been the more collected one and less driven by emotion than he was.

Perseus had scouted on ahead, leaving the two of them to play catch up. From what he had heard from Hadvar, there had been a complication in their bout with the oversized insects that the Aurelius wasn't exactly proud of.

"What do you think of Perseus? You think he is who he says he is?" Ralof asked in curiosity. Hadvar hummed in thought.

"Honestly, I don't see why he would lie about his noble status. His outburst from earlier seemed too emotional to make up on the spot and the torturer was pretty convinced of his position..."

"Maybe, but he could just be a good liar," Ralof pointed out. His answer caused Hadvar to shake his head in disagreement.

"I don't think so. His words had powerful emotion to back them up. Besides, he expressed earlier that he didn't want to be recognized as that in the first place. If he was really trying to hide his status, he never would've used it to our advantage..." he drifted off before remembering something else that happened earlier.

"And he had the Imperial council and military code of the Aurelius family, meaning-"

"I get it! He's not lying," Ralof exasperated a little louder than he initially meant to, bringing a laugh from Hadvar.

"You haven't changed a bit, you damn mammoth-herder..."

The Stormcloak turned his head towards Hadvar in disbelief. "And you're the one saying we're enemies."

A chuckle came from Hadvar again. "Well considering our situation, that dragon is our enemy at the moment."

He had a point, but what made him realize that fact now, even after restating their status as ill-fated foes, was a mystery to Ralof. As he tried to figure out the reason, the blond Nord hadn't noticed that the two Nords had caught up with their pointman.

"Hold up. There's a bear just ahead, sitting in the light. See her?" Ralof's eyes followed Perseus' pointing finger and what the Aurelius said was no lie. A large breach in the ceiling casted a pure light down into the cavern, one that Ralof felt as if he hadn't seen it in a very long time. Laying comfortably in that light was the massive beast that Perseus had spoken of.

"We can try and sneak past her, if you think-" Ralof had to stop Perseus' line of thinking before the Aurelius took it and ran with it.

"That won't work. Maybe with another province's bear, but not Skyrim's. I've seen it tried and failed many times during our convoy ambushes and the beast always took a few of our men with it," Ralof interrupted with urgency, earning a wondering hum from Perseus.

"What do you suggest?" The question caught Ralof off guard, causing him to give the Aurelius a double take, both physically and mentally. He didn't think a loyalist of the Empire would ever be asking a rebel bent on succession for advice. Even though his respect of the Aurelius increased, Ralof couldn't stop the words from escaping his lips.

"You're... asking me?" Perseus turned to look at him while motioning Hadvar to lay him against the pillar to their right.

"Listen, I haven't the slightest idea on how the beasts of Skyrim operate and I'm not going to pretend like I do, so to answer your question, yes," the Aurelius paused before finishing. "What should we do?"

Ralof stayed baffled at Perseus' action. Not only was the man somewhat open-minded, but he was humble about his ignorance to the world around him. The Stormcloak didn't think the Aurelius knew it yet, but to Ralof, Perseus was a breath of fresh air. Refocusing himself, Ralof gave Perseus his answer.

"Kill it before it kills us," Ralof's response caused Perseus to narrow his eyes before turning in the bear's direction and drawing his bow.

"Hadvar, be ready. It's been a while since I've shot a bow," Perseus warned nonchalantly. The legionnaire shifted uneasily. It made Ralof chuckle to himself. Hadvar was never one for the wilderness. He was definitely not one for the beasts that made their beds in there either.

"Look on the bright side, Hadvar. Bears never go too deep into caves," Ralof's point made the legionnaire calm himself in realization of what that meant, but on the other hand, it confused Perseus.

"So? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It mean the exit's nearby."

A light shown in the Aurelius eyes, followed by a smile. "Well why didn't you just say so? Let's kill us a bear."

Ralof chuckled again. Again, he didn't think Perseus knew it yet, but the Aurelius was more of a Nord than he realized. The Stormcloak watched carefully as Perseus nocked an arrow on the drawstring. The arrow itself was of poor quality, but it shouldn't matter if the Aurelius hit the bear in the right spot.

Standing tall, Perseus pulled the drawstring back in a swift motion and paused. Ralof saw his chest rise and fall multiple times before the Aurelius loosed his projectile. The arrow soared through the air, cutting through with little effort before it lodged itself center mass.

The bear stood taller than any man, roaring in pain at the sudden intrusion. It caught sight of the trio, sending a wave of fear through Ralof's body as it proceeded to charge towards them.

_Fuck!_

Ralof knew he was that bear's dinner unless Hadvar and Perseus had something to say about it. The legionnaire had his shield standing in between himself and the bear, but Perseus still had his bow out and, surprisingly, another arrow loaded in his drawstring. He quickly pulled the arrow back and let it fly.

The projectile landed itself in the bear's forehead, causing the beast the fall forward and bite the ground. A little amount of dust flew into the air from the impact, but it did nothing to cover the bear's obvious demise. There was very little that could survive a shot to the head.

The cavern was filled with Hadvar's laughter, but not for comedic reasons. Ralof knew that was a nervous laughter meant to release the tension that had built.

"I could swear my heart had stopped for more than a moment," the legionnaire managed in between breaths before sheathing his sword and returning his shield to its harness on his back.

Perseus let a few chuckles go for the same reasons as the legionnaire's, but not to the same extent.

"I honestly didn't think I would hit the damned thing. I guess I got lucky," Ralof agreed in silence, but disagreed with the last part verbally.

"I wouldn't call it luck. I'd say Talos was guiding your hand there, friend," Perseus laughed, a reaction that Ralof didn't know what to take from it. He couldn't tell if it was a sarcastic, disbelieving laugh or a thankful, relieving one until the next words flew from the Aurelius' mouth.

"I suppose so… my mother and father were always big believers of the Aedra gods, especially that of Talos and Akatosh. Of course I inherited that, but my faith has wavered as of late," the half-blood didn't leave much room for a response as he quickly followed up with, "Come on. I've had enough of this place. Let's get moving."

"Do you want me to get Ralof, or-?"

"I'll get him this time. You take point," the legionnaire nodded at Perseus' command, not questioning him as he did earlier. He drew his sword and shield and proceeded onward, leaving Perseus to grab Ralof.

Once they got moving, Ralof couldn't take his mind off of the Aurelius' remarks concerning his faith. The Stormcloak's mind wandered in many different directions, all of them focusing on the possibility of converting Perseus over to the cause.

Adding Perseus to the Stormcloak fold would open up so many doors that would've previously never been available to them, courtesy of his noble connections. It could really change things in Skyrim. Maybe even Tamriel. Getting close to him wouldn't be easy though. The Aurelius seemed very weary to trust others. He would have to break through those barriers first.

Well, there's no time like the present.

"Perseus, may I ask you something?" Ralof inquired. The Aurelius hummed for a moment.

"Depends on the question."

"What has caused your faith in the gods to waver to such an extent?" The silence that followed was deafening. Hadvar wasn't too far ahead of them, but considering his silence and his blunt turning of his head, he too was wondering.

"Look, it's nothing against you two at all, but it's not something I'm willing to talk about at the moment. Besides, you should hear about it soon enough. It'll be big news throughout the continent," it wasn't the answer the Stormcloak was looking for, but if what he said was true, more would come to light eventually.

After more minutes of dragging their feet through the cavern, their feet began crunching with each step made, causing Ralof to glance down at what they were stepping in. Once he saw what it was though, a wave of relief crashed upon him.

_Snow..._

Light filled his peripheral vision, prompting the Stormcloak to look towards the source. It was what all three of them prayed for: an exit.

_Thank the gods…_

"We made it," Hadvar breathed out as if he had taken a huge weight off of his shoulders. He turned towards Perseus with the biggest grin on his face. "Prepare yourself. Skyrim isn't like anything you've ever seen before. That I can guarantee."

Ralof looked at the Aurelius, who had a longing and wondering look planted on his face. "Finally. Let's go."

With those words, they stepped out of the cave and into the light, with the grand feeling of surviving the attack resting in their hearts.

The view that met them was one for the books. It was the exact representation that Skyrim was. The rugged mountains that Skyrim was known for stood tall and rugged in the distance, all of which was covered by a graceful yet threatening snow-coated peak. It served as a reminder of how harsh the province could be and that Skyrim could either make or break an individual. Trees and other various forms of bright, lively flora complemented the base of the mountains, representing life and how life flourishes in the land.

What completed the picture though was that powerful sun that shone above them, casting light down on the entirety of Skyrim. It was a sight Ralof never got tired of seeing. The giant star shined in all its glory and above all that would live under it. No one was above it. Just like Talos and the other Aedra.

He never thought he would see it again. That dragon had put a sense of hopelessness in him that he had never felt before. Seeing it again reignited his fire.

"Beautiful…"

Looking up at the Aurelius, Ralof grinned from ear to ear. Perseus' mouth hung slightly open from the spectacle Skyrim had put before them. It was definitely overwhelming, even for the Stormcloak who had lived in Skyrim all his life.

"It's something, isn't it?" Hadvar questioned, quite awestruck by the view itself.

"Yeah… yeah, it is…" Perseus said in a wonder. The Stormcloak could see the gears turning in the Aurelius' mind. Something was changing inside him. That much was obvious. His normal dark blue eyes were illuminated both figuratively and literally, revealing that the sea of blue was accompanied by a stormy grey.

It wasn't just the light from the sun either. His eyes shown something that wasn't previously there earlier. Something that brought forth who Perseus really was and who he could be…

_Hope… there's hope in his eyes._

The Stormcloak's mind realized something then. Not only that neither he nor Hadvar would've made it out without Perseus, but that he was right in his assumption from earlier.

The Aurelius was going to change things.

A roar broke his thoughts. That roar was not something he wanted to hear in the same lifetime, especially after what had just transpired.

"Wait," Hadvar instructed, putting his hand in front of Perseus before he could move. They stayed locked in place until they felt the wind change directions and the dragon flew directly over their heads in the same direction they were headed.

"No... It can't be headed to Riverwood, can it…?" Ralof pondered in fearful anxiety, wondering if it was going to give his home the same treatment it did Helgen.

"It's not," Hadvar assured. "It's already flown over Riverwood, but Whiterun is in the same direction…"

Perseus spoke up to reassure the two men. "One thing at a time. First, let's get to this Riverwood you speak of. It's not far from here is it?"

Hadvar shook his head. "Not at all. If we get moving now, we can be there long before nightfall."

The Aurelius nodded in approval and spoke with renewed vigor. "Good. Let's get going."

As they began walking, Ralof said, "Oh, Perseus."

"Yeah?" the Aurelius looked back at his charge.

"Welcome to Skyrim."

**-o-O-o-**

_**Author's Note:**_ **With that, Helgen is down in the books. Now things are really going to start picking up in pace real soon.**

**As far as Hadvar and Ralof go, I always saw them as a friendship that was torn apart because of the Civil War. I don't know if it was just me, but when the two run into each other before you make the choice to follow one or the other, how they addressed each seemed like they had been friends beforehand. Especially considering that they both come from the small town of Riverwood where everyone knows one another. The two Nords will have to overcome their differences and grow in their own right to become friends again and fulfill their roles that I have plan for them. We'll be seeing them again.**

**Concerning Perseus, it may seem like he's completely okay now, but I'm telling you… he's far from okay. He's still scarred by events that will be explained later, but the situation forced him to push that to the side in order to live. That little piece at the end was the result of what he had to go through. Helgen did change him. How it did is the question.**

**Dialogue is also something I'm changing up. While I may use some in game dialogue, I will be largely going on my own versions of the dialogue. Relieves the monotony of things.**

**Also, you got your first glimpse of Crassus and Aisha, Perseus' parents, this chapter. You'll be seeing more flashbacks like this to show what kind of people Crassus and Aisha are and how they've influenced Perseus. Plus, I'm imagining Crassus as Liam Neeson (see what I did there, Fallout fans?) and Aisha as Kate Winslett (blonde, of course).**

**One more thing before I go. I have went back to later chapters and updated it with new dialogue and writing that I felt just worked better than the first draft. Not only that, but I updated Chapter One's first author's note with VERY important information. If you don't feel like rereading the whole thing, at the very least go check out Chapter One's author's note. It better details what I am going to do for this story.**

**Huge thanks to these individuals for the follows, favorites, and reviews: Drakhus Von Carstein, Fallen Angel 12-31-89, K.C. Beadlejuice, SeekerM, SneakyTurtle, Justaquestion12, WolfFang1011. Your support means the world to me.**

**Remember to follow, favorite, and review. Until next time.**

**-Will**

_**Review Responses:**_

_**WolfFang1011: **_**Thank you! That's what I was going for in the first place. He's a mysterious character at the moment whose motive isn't clear to the others and you're right. All will be answered in due time. I appreciate you taking the time to review my chapter. Keep em coming.**


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